NABC Chapter 28 Give me back my things!
Chapter 28 Give me back my things!
A crowd gathered below the stage, with children sitting at the very front, craning their necks and watching intently.
Zhuge Yan also went over to take a look for a while.
The shadow puppet show depicts "Zhao Yun Intercepting the River," with Zhao Zilong on a white cloth holding a long spear, cutting through the waves, and knocking down the pursuing army's banner with a single thrust.
The sound of hooves striking the wooden blocks grew increasingly rapid, and the children below clenched their fists, letting out suppressed cheers.
A thought struck him, and he calculated the time with his fingers.
Today is an auspicious day, no wonder the town is so lively.
Some people are celebrating a wedding, some are going to the market, and this shadow puppet show is adding to the festivities—all of these were held on this special day.
He stood at the back of the crowd, looking at the silhouette of a man wielding a spear on the white cloth, and suddenly remembered the Three Kingdoms stories he had read in his previous life.
Zhao Yun, courtesy name Zilong, was from Changshan Zhen Ding. He was skilled with the Dragon Gall Spear and charged into and out of Changban Slope seven times. Those stories are just like that in another world.
Thinking of this, Zhuge Yan smiled.
Soon, the shadow puppet show ended.
The crowd gradually dispersed, but the children lingered behind the white cloth, reluctant to leave, wanting to see what the moving paper figures looked like.
Zhuge Yan withdrew from the crowd and walked to the other side of the street.
There was a steamed bun stall on the street corner. The steamers were stacked high, and white steam rose from the gaps in the top layer, carrying the aroma of dough and meat filling.
Zhuge Yan walked up to the stall and was about to ask for two steamed buns when his hand reached into his robes again, only to feel the rough texture of the fabric.
The cloth bag is gone!!!
Zhuge Yan stood in front of the steamed bun stall, his arm frozen in mid-air.
The steamed bun vendor looked up at him, assuming he couldn't afford it, and his eyes showed a hint of impatience as he urged him on.
Zhuge Yan ignored the boss's gaze, pulled his hand out of his pocket, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.
"They really have a lot of nerve. I just came down the mountain and they've already tried to steal from me."
The next second, he suddenly opened his eyes, his thoughts returning to the central palace in a flash.
Within a hundred meters of your feet, the Qimen formation is activated.
Zhuge Yan did not use any hand seals; he simply allowed his true qi to seep silently from his Yongquan acupoint into the bluestone ground beneath his feet.
The eight directions unfold simultaneously in consciousness: Rest, Life, Injury, Block, View, Death, Shock, and Open.
This is not a battle; it does not require activating all five senses or simultaneously operating the four celestial, earthly, human, and divine spheres.
He only needs to perform a small-scale deduction.
The divination uses oneself as the guide. The person who came is a thief, and there is already a karmic connection between them. There is no need for birth date and time. You can directly use the Qi energy on your body to deduce the other party's location.
The wind is blowing in the southeast direction, which is nearby!
Zhuge Yan turned his head and looked southeast.
Amidst the bustling crowd and the dim light of the lanterns, he saw a figure quickly passing under the archway at the end of the street.
The figure was short and thin, and walked faster than everyone around him. His shoulders were slightly tucked in, and his footsteps were silent. He moved through the crowded throng like a fish swimming in the waves.
He didn't look back, but his steps carried a tension of "having just succeeded and is making his escape."
They were only a few dozen steps apart, and with the streets packed with people, it would have been impossible for an ordinary person to catch up.
But Zhuge Yan was a sorcerer. Sorcerers are not afraid of not being able to catch up with people; what they fear is chasing in the wrong direction.
In the blink of an eye, Zhuge Yan had already pinpointed the southeast Xun position.
Chase!
The eight gates flow beneath your feet, and every step you take is in an auspicious position.
The Zhen Palace accelerates, the Li Palace borrows light, and the Xun Palace chases the wind.
His speed reached a level that was unattainable by ordinary people in just a few breaths.
An old woman who was handing a paper windmill to her grandson by the roadside suddenly felt a gust of wind brush past her side, her silver hair fluttering forward. She turned her head blankly and saw a blurry figure disappear into the twilight at the end of the street.
Ahead, the thief seemed to have sensed something. He turned his head and saw Zhuge Yan rushing towards him. His pupils shrank sharply, and he quickened his pace as well.
"It's an extraordinary person!"
Looking at the speed at which the thief was running away, a knowing glint flashed in Zhuge Yan's eyes.
Yes, no wonder he was able to steal my bag without me noticing. How could an ordinary person have that ability?
By the time they chased them out of town, it was already dark.
The roads outside the town were no longer paved with bluestone slabs, but rather rough paths made of gravel and yellow mud.
The trees on both sides of the road grew denser, their canopies cutting the moonlight into fragments, scattering dappled patterns on the ground.
The figure was fifty paces ahead.
A gust of wind rose from beneath Zhuge Yan's feet, and with a leap, he blocked the road.
Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the tree canopy, illuminating the figure.
He was a middle-aged man who looked to be in his early thirties, slightly taller than Zhuge Yan by about half a head. He was thin but wiry, dressed in a drab gray short brown outfit, with the cuffs and trouser legs tied tightly with cloth strips, showing the agility of someone who had been on the run for many years.
His features were not bad; he had high brow bones, a narrow nose, and thin lips, but there was something in his eyes that made people feel uncomfortable.
It wasn't ferocity, but rather a kind of sinister aura, a frivolous sinister aura, as if nothing in this world was worth taking seriously.
Seeing that no one was around, the middle-aged man stopped running.
He turned around, a hint of amusement on his face.
"They caught up pretty quickly."
His voice wasn't loud, but it had a roguish, rising tone, as if he were flirting with a girl selling flowers on the street.
"I was just wondering where this kid came from in this run-down town, going out all by himself? Turns out, he's one of us!"
Zhuge Yan did not respond to his words.
His gaze fell on the middle-aged man's waist, where seven or eight money bags and cloth pouches of different sizes hung in a string, like prey hanging from a hunter's waist.
The bottommost cloth bag is made of faded blue cloth, with frayed edges.
That was his cloth bag!
"Give me back my things."
Zhuge Yan spoke up.
His tone was calm, so calm that it didn't sound like someone who had just lost something.
The middle-aged man tilted his head, and the curve of his lips spread into a cynical smile.
"You mean this?"
He pointed to the blue cloth bag at his waist and deliberately flicked his fingertip on the cloth.
"I'm sorry, but once something is in my hands, Gu Yan, it's mine."
It's fate that it ended up in your hands, and it's also fate that it ended up in mine.
Fate is a matter of judgment; if you have good judgment, you can hold on tight; if you don't, I'll keep it for you.
He shrugged, his smile becoming even brighter than before.
"But then again, you don't have many big coins in this bag, it's all loose silver and copper coins, and it's wrapped in a tattered cloth."
I wouldn't even bother picking them up before, but if you really want them...
He tapped his chin with his index finger, tilted his head, and thought for a moment.
"Call me Grandpa, and I'll give you the smallest coin as a return gift."